We had been riding for about 130km … sunny, hot, straight ahead. The road was decorated with a go-zillon potholes. Yeah, imagine an extremely long (100km) and wide (5m) piece of Swiss cheese. Paul was leading us out slaloming along to avoid the deepest of the depressions. I was following about 5-7 meters back rather than my usual 5-7 centimeters. This way I could swerve to avoid the holes as needed. Regularly, I would glance back to see if any cars were coming up from behind on the narrow road, but usually there were not any.
This time I glanced back and saw three or four cars coming on at high speeds. In front I saw a couple more cars coming at high speeds. Paul rode steadily about 7 meters ahead. “Cars back,” I shouted. We hugged the side of the road. Then I looked over my shoulder. F$%#. There was a fast car fishtailing about 25 meters behind me and about to plow into me sideways at high speed. To the unfriendly sound of screeching tires, I made the decision to get the f%$# out of Dodge. I turned to my right as hard as I could, rear tire sliding violently, going off the road, braced for impact, and saw the car pass by … I ended up behind a small bush. Then took another breath. Tires screeched and several other cars came to abrupt halts.
Meanwhile, Paul looked back horrified and thought his best friend had just been crushed under a car for he could not see any sign of me … the said bush hid my from his view. I emerged. He sighed a huge sigh of relief, a look of exceptional concern, and asked if I was okay. We took this picture at the spot and shared a moment of silence … then we proceeded to finish off the day.
After a long wait at the border for our passports to be returned, we entered Bulgaria after crossing a very narrow bridge near Rousse, Bulgaria. There a young boy on a bike served as our escort through the city, and he rode with us to a nice hotel on the city’s main square. We had dinner and drinks.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you for another day. The adventure continues …